Price of anger

I am one of the Kauravas*;
indulged in conceit and caprice,
I died in the field of Kurukshetra*
and was thus absolved of my sins;
I am now a resident of heaven;
but the Pandavas* were, despite fighting 
the holy war, unable to forgive 
us, the Kauravas; this sin was 
the sole cause of their fate, they were
debarred at the gate of heaven; even 
after thirty-six years of ruling Hastinapura*, 
they are seen taking their tour in hell; 
anger will flare up the air for long, 
with many such stories to tell.

 

Note

Kauravas - Kaurava is a Sanskrit term for the descendants of King Kuru (or simply Kurava in Tamil), a legendary king who is the ancestor of many of the characters of the Mahābhārata. Kauravas are a hundred sons and one daughter of the blind king of Hastinapur, Dhritarashtra, and the queen Gandhari. The well-known Kauravas are Duryodhana, Dushasana, Vikarna, and Dussala.

Kurukshetra - According to the Puranas, Kurukshetra is a region named after King Kuru, the ancestor of Kauravas and Pandavas, as depicted in epic Mahabharata. The importance of the place is attributed to the fact that the Kurukshetra War of the Mahabharata is said to have taken place here. According to the epic, The Mahabharata, the sacred ‘Bhagavat Gita’ scripture was first delivered here by Krishna.

Pandavas - The Pandavas refers to the five brothers namely, Yudhishthira, Bhima, Arjuna, Nakula, and Sahadeva. They are the main characters in the epic Mahabharata. They were the sons of Pandu, the king of Hastinapura, and his two wives Kunti and Madri. The five brothers shared a wife, Draupadi.

Hastinapura - In the Mahabharata, Hastinapur is portrayed as the capital of the Kuru Kingdom of the Kauravas. Many incidents in the Mahabharata were set in the city of Hastinapur. According to the Mahabharata, the 100 Kaurava brothers were born in this city to their mother, Queen Gandhari, the wife of King Dhritarashtra. On the bank of the Budhi Ganga, two places near Hastinapur (Draupadi Ghat and Karna Ghat) reference Mahabharata personages. The first reference to Hastinapur in the Puranas presents the city as the capital of Emperor Bharata's kingdom. King Samprati (also referred to as Samrat Samprati), the grandson of the emperor Asoka the Great of the Mauryan Empire, built many temples here during his reign. During British India, Hastinapur was ruled by Raja Nain Singh Nagar, who built many Hindu temples in and around Hastinapura.

The odd one is out

I find myself like a stranger
in the midst of people who 
look, eat, and talk like me; 
they also have two hands, a pair
of eyes and ears, a nose, a tongue,
a pair of flexible knees, a pair of feet;
yet, I cannot think like them,
especially in matters of 
entertainment, some sport, 
and some game.

Horror, terror, war, bloodshed
are a matter of amusement;
with popcorns and cokes,
similar-looking folks are thrilled,
they want to watch them
over and over again;
in some sport, violence brings fame,
players openly hit and hurt their opponents;
they have to bleed, break their bones
in the middle of a captive audience,
like those slaves of the yore, thrown
within the walls to fight against the
hungry lions, the outcome of the huddle
was all so known, either the animal
would live or would breathe the
likes of Spartacus.

What is most sad is that we don’t
understand what is so wrong,
only strangers and weirdos
like me find such display of
wasted strength, rather weak
than strong.

অন্তর্দর্শন

প্রতিনিয়ত যদি অতীতের
চিন্তা করি, কে কি করেছে
বা করেনি, বলেছে বা বলেনি,
কি হয়েছে, বা হয়নি, এই
আবর্জনায় যদি পচে মরি,
অনুক্ষণ, যদি এই কারাগারে 
প্রতিমুহূর্ত হয় বৃথা অতিবাহিত 
তাহলে হে বর্তমান, হে ভগবান
হে ঈশ্বর, হে অনুপম, ওহে পরম 
পবিত্র স্পন্দন, তোমার আরাধনা 
করবো কখন?

জীবনের উষ্ণ আলিঙ্গন কবে
করবো অনুভব, হে সুদর্শন
তোমার আলোর নৃত্যে কবেই
বা হবে উপলব্ধি আমার
একান্ত অন্তর্দর্শন।

Perspective

 

Life! It takes years to live, 

Captured in few leaves. 

Read in a few hours. 

Tree in miniature, 

A fiction is a bonsai, 

Adorning the living space. 

Utmost priority

Without peace, 

without absolute, 

determined, delivered

'warlessness', 

every inch of growth

and development

is meaningless -

an insipid showpiece

of plastic progress;

it takes us miles away

from what we truly merit, 

equanimity, and happiness. 

Times

My world,
without a clock,
no need to keep pace 
with anything at all, 
I wake up when it’s 
still dark, I walk on 
the grass, flower my 
plants, wait for the dew
drops to soften my feet,
my face; oftentimes
I pray, play with my 
breaths; it’s a new life
new lines, full of space.

I love calling-bells
that ring only once,
when the maid comes
to cook;

My evenings start early
with lazy, unhurried,
long promenades by
the beach, I sit with my
tired legs for a brewing
coffee, sometimes with
some smiling faces,
I observe every bit of life
that surrounds me with
love, warmth, and affection;

All the stars in the sky,
flowers, fruits, birds in the
garden, they're ready
and available, like a
comforting tick-tock,
I look upon them as my
companions, soak in their
goings-on;

I think and laugh at all
my ignorance, my mistakes,
my rights and wrongs,
gone with the waves;

I thought my world ran
without any reminder
of time, until I touched
my heart, felt the
faithful beat.

The colour of unity

The colour gray

gets under the skin, 

sits in our minds

as a poor cousin, 

dull and dead;

but its fruition

unites the world

full of life

in black and white.

In-between

Being in the process
is my fallout,
being in the journey
is my purpose.

I see myself in between
the visible and the invisible
I hear myself inside
silence and speech.

I know I am blessed.

Little by little, outcast,
distanced from the flow
of life, I came upon you,
like the shepherd,
I see hurts and holes
in my system, I know I
inflicted all of them with
ignorant concern; I have
to take charge, heal them,
one by one; I cannot judge
anyone, anymore, those
scabs and scars had formed
me, they belong to me, to
them I’d say so long,
and set me rolling free
in a joyful journey.

Maradonah!

 

O, golden kid!
The ball is weeping
on the ground, it will
refuse to glide around; the one
that once danced on the field
with the kisses from your feet.

Where did you go
O, El pibe de Oro,
Countless lovers of foot
fell in love with the game
because you brought
name and fame for the
glorious sport and your country,
but the magician that you were
your spells set the crazy game
beyond all known boundaries.

Every time you played,
time stopped for those
ninety minutes, we will never
forget the splendid 1986.
You won the Golden Ball
by defeating Germany,
but the two goals in the quarter
finals had made history, one
the hand of God and the other
the goal of the century!

For as long as the ball
bounces on the field,
as long as the whistles blow
your spirit will kick start 
to energize us, your name
will continue to shine and glow!

Maradona! You will forever
be engraved in our hearts,
for the limitless fun and pleasure
you brought in the sport as art.

The indescribable

If you could define love
you could also define god,
if they were mere words
they'd be easily conquered.

Within and beyond the senses,
they're both indescribable
in essence;
since the naive intellect
wants to contain them
in words, the mind is
bewildered, misdirected;

To hold them in any
boundaries, in time and space,
is to belittle their beauties,
deny to behold them
by feeling their grace.

Like the air we breathe,
neither see nor read,
to experience their lightness
one has to volunteer to wander
in the wonderment
of light and darkness. 

গোপন কথা

কত কথা কতকাল ধরে,
গোপনে লুকনো আছে
রাতের আঁধারে,
তারাগুলো নেমে এসে
জোনাকির বেশে, লুকলো
নিশার ফাঁকে এধারে ওধারে,
কি কথা আছে যে ঢাকা
জানে না কিছুই তারা
নাজেহাল হল সবে
কালোর গভীরে। 

টিপ টিপ করে ওরা
খুঁজে খুঁজে হলো সারা
ঘন রাত ধীরে ধীরে
ভোর হয়ে আসে,
হঠাৎ দেখিতে পেলো
কথাগুলি ডালে ডালে
দুলে দুলে থোকা থোকা
ফুল হয়ে ফুটে আছে
চারিদিক ভ'রে।  

তারাগুলি হাসিমুখে দিল
পাড়ি আকাশেতে
কথাগুলি চুপিসারে
চাঁপা, জবা হয়ে ফুটে
রইলো বাগানে। 

মৌমাছি গুলি সব
গুনগুন করে এসে
অজানা কথায় সুর
ঢেলে দিল ভালোবেসে
কথাগুলি ব্যথা ভুলে
সুরে তালে মিলে মিশে
নতুন জীবন পেলো
সুমধুর গানে। 

La fleur-fusil

Je viens d'avoir un fusil

Par hasard, 

Mais c'était inutile

Pour la guerre, 

C'était fait des fleurs. 

À la fois dommage et dérisoire

Car le produit et le matériel

Sont tout-à-fait contradictoires. 

Un peu comme la terre et le ciel

Avec la tendresse de leurs mains

font naître la génie des êtres humains. 

The journey

From all the avalanche
of failures of your 
performance, haven’t you 
still taken the cue 
that it’s time to begin
to chat with yourself
in your green room.

Failings have come unto
you as a guiding clue,
to take that long-awaited
journey, liberate you from
the several selves that 
needed to be shelved long
ago; say times for now,
when you’d recognize
masks as your disguise,
re-enter the stage.

Whether or not

Whether or not you pluck me,
I know I am a flower,
I am bound to leave my trace;
Whether or not you pick on me,
I know I am a human being,
I will found my space.

l'eau de la vie

les larmes se mettent à se parler,
depuis l'horizon, les feuilles, sous 
l'image d’un orage se sont éclatées,
portant des histoires des injustices,
des tortures, des triches, des malices,
et des inexplicables plaisirs grisants, 
tout autour, elles volent sur la terre; 
comme les armes de ces gouttes d’eau, 
elles hurlent partout, prêtes à une guerre 
pour changer leur destin... elles ne 
veulent plus se naître dans le monde; 
la planète confondue, comme un enfant 
tout seul, venant de mettre son modeste 
pas sur l'astre, se demande pourtant, 
d’où peut-elle trouver la force de vivre;

The wanderer

I was traveling through
a dark nothing, the sky
fainted in the space,
the sun I saw was green with
anger, the confused moon,
with blue horror, they thought
their lights would breed life,
but overlooking the debris
of deaths, the stars felt
their function was rendered
useless, like poor cousins,
they hung in shame.

In the midst of enormous rubble
and scree, I glanced upon
a smiling child that ran into
a sapling; the sky seemed to
have regained consciousness,
the stars also got back their
colours, but I wondered
on the purpose.  

Le milieu si précieux

Où que l’on porte son regard
il y a des choses merveilleuses à voir.

On peut tout apprécier
peut-être ici l'on peut tous aimer.

Dans les montagnes, dans l'eau
ou dans l'immense ciel,
la vie est à l’aise, follement réelle.

Tous les beaux animaux bougent,
et courent librement, les poissons
coulent, volent également les oiseaux.

Ils sont tous, au fond, des bijoux d'un
espace qui est en voie de se détruire ;
n'oublions pas que c’est notre origine
sans laquelle nous allons périr.

L’endroit magnifique et formidable, pleine
d'espèces rares qui vont bientôt disparaître,
il faut que ce soit notre raison d’être
de protéger tous ensemble, le milieu si précieux
des millions des êtres vivants, avec d'autant
de passions et d’intérêts, car c'est la racine
de notre existence, ce sont des forêts.

Mind-blowing

My mind wants to read others, 

doesn't want to be read, 

it thinks in thin air,

stays for a split second, 

then escapes like a truant, 

despite being caught red-handed. 

If only

If only the words, written
on the leaves
could cure the wounds
of the world,
I'd instantly know
that my silence was heard.

If only the words, lying
on the pages
could purify the beings,
I’d feel light and free
from the age-old cages.

If only the letters
would freshen up the air,
the land, and the water
I'd feel the soil had
responded to my prayers.

If only the words whistling
in the phrases
could bring back peace
in all the countries,
if they could have the spell
to erase every menace
from the face of the earth,
if words could solemnize the space
from the self-defeating habits,
destroy poverty and mediocrity
of the body, mind, and spirit
I'd definitely have the feeling
that the world, for good
is on its way to healing.

Else the most earnest of words
lose their very purpose,
they turn into beautiful quotes,
shallow, they emptily float
they’re hallowed, made famous;
if they were only tried,
they’d not be superfluous.

The purest lent

When you give up

your favourite things

for lent, try and sacrifice

your words during 

the period, apart from

chanting prayers, be silent. 

পরিবার

যখন কাউকে যায়না ভালবাসা

তখনই তাকে ভালবাসতে হয়, 

এ যে স্বয়ং ভগবানের ভাষা

যেন এ বাণী এমনি এমনি নয়। 

মা, বাবারা শীর্ণকায় যখন

সেবার বেশী প্রয়োজন তো হয়, 

দূরে ঠেলে দিলে তাদের তখন

পাপের বোঝা বাড়ে যে নিশ্চয়। 

ছেলে মেয়েরা যখন শোনেনা কথা

বিপথগামী যখন তারা হয়, 

তখনই তাদের গোপন দুঃখ ব্যথা

বুকে টেনে শুনবার সময়। 

যদি একটু থেমে গিয়ে ভাব

তোমরা সবাই এ কথারই সার, 

নতুন যুগের আবির্ভাবে পাব

শান্তিপূর্ণ বিশ্ব পরিবার। 

My overloaded boat

My boat is overloaded
with possessions, for them, 
I had denied seats to 
human beings; heavy, it 
cannot keep afloat, neither 
can it sail anymore; I was
taken aback to see water
piercing through a little crack.

I wish I had a hand, that
could take me to the shore.
Chattels, just mere weights,
I am throwing the wealth,
one by one, but all in vain, 
for it's far too late.

I cannot heal the hole,
my wound, I realized that
the things don't have the means,
the wherewithal,
to carry me to the bank.

Crying out for help,
my crown sank in shame.

কবে তুমি

যা কিছু সুন্দর, তারই মাঝে
আমি আছি জেনো,
পাখির সকাল, সাঁঝের গান
ফুলে ফলে ভরা বাগান
অসীম সম্পদে তৃপ্ত ঘন জঙ্গল
মহাসাগরের গভীর ঢলঢলে জল
এরই মধ্যে আমি আছি অনন্ত কাল ধরে,
তোমার অপেক্ষায়, কবে তুমি সকল
গ্লানি, দ্বেষ, অতীতের নির্বোধ
ক্রোধ ভুলে আসবে আমার
মাতৃসম কোলে, কবে তোমার
অচেতনতার হবে অন্ত, আমি তারই
আশায় দিন গুনছি দিবারাত্র। 

আমি পিতা হয়ে সূর্যের মত
দিচ্ছি তোমায় জ্ঞানের প্রকাশ
অহরহ, অনর্গল, অনবরত
জ্যোৎস্নার আলোয় ভরিয়ে আকাশ
মাতৃস্নেহে, তোমার যেখানে আঘাত
আছে যত ক্ষত, প্রলেপ লাগাচ্ছি আমি
তাতে প্রতিনিয়ত, কবে তুমি আসবে
আবার আমার কাছে আমার মতন করে ,
কবে তুমি আমার শিশির বিন্দু,
সাদা কালো মেঘ, উথাল পাঠাল ঢেউ
দিঘীর জলে পানকৌড়ির ডুব
ভোরের বেলায়, সোনালী গোধূলিতে
আমার শত সহস্র রূপ, নিষ্পাপ
শিশুর মত দেখবে দুচোখ ভোরে।   

Worldhood

Many international days pass by
to remember, to recognize the
importance of the roles we play
in our societies, we are proud of
our own national days, we commemorate
days when we appreciate communities
in which we operate, applaud at other
times groups that make us bow to
countries, cities, to the soldiers,
caregivers that had protected and
healed lives with their selfless sacrifice
through ages, for centuries.

On a frenzied night, when I was tipsy
I heard a whisper in the air, it sounded
as if the world was telling me to observe
a border-less day, it was telling me how it
wanted to be free from all the rules that
had scratched its ground... chained it
all around. It also murmured in my
dotty mind to block one day in the
calendar to observe global
interdependence day of the year.

'How would it matter', I asked, it said
it wanted, at least for a day, to be
revered as one single world;
its broken parts, severed as countries
have national, independence days when
how people fought, again and again,
how they permanently separated,
divided, died are applauded, recollected.

The world demanded one day when
men, women, and children would unite
and discuss how they’d live happily
ever after with their new belief, in
their priceless little world comprising
forests, mountains, and deserts.

Like a refrain, the voice told me that
on the Interdependence and Border-less
days peoples would come together to
understand and recognize the importance
of collaborative growth and development,
that they’d remind themselves as to how
despite being unique and different, they
are similar and interdependent; in order
to fight against global headaches how
they could all stand, hand in hand, how,
with the newfound spirit, they could
in unison, celebrate ‘worldhood'* for good.

For a while, I was spellbound by what I heard,
It came from the depth of my woozy world. 

Note:

worldhood* - a new word that means a community in the solar system. 

In between the lines

Within the gap of the written
and the read words, time and
space travel through disparate
emotions, experiences; but when
they meet, layers of meanings
delude, evade, coalesce.
A writer who dies in the pages,
lies and lives in the readers’ eyes,
their minds, in time and space.

Writers are read, at times heard
in volumes of grim, colured words,
readers relive their silent world
as if it were their own universe.

অহংকার সংহার

কিসের এত মিথ্যা অহংকার?
হলাম না হয় লয়িয়ার, ইন্জিনিয়ার,
নয়ত কোনো ধন্বন্তরি ডাক্তার,
জগৎজোড়া বিখ্যাত এ্যাক্টার
কর্মকর্তা, ব্যবসায়ী বা নেতা,
সাদা কালো বিষয় হেথা হোথা!

জীবনটা ত একিই রকম লয়ে
জন্ম, মরণ, দুঃখ শত শত
কাঁধের ওপর বিশাল বোঝা বয়ে
ছুটছে সদা এদিক ওদিক যত
পাগলপারা দিগ্ভ্রান্তের মত।

যে ডিগ্রি, খ্যাতি, প্রতিপত্তি নিয়ে
এত গর্ব, দেমাক কলরব
মাটির তলায় সবই মিশে গিয়ে
মিলিয়ে দেবে নামের অবয়ব,
যবে তোমার শরীর হবে শব।

তাই আছে যত তোমার আস্ফালন
কর তাদের সমূলে সংহার,
ফুলের মত ফুটিয়ে উঠতে মন
সদানন্দে বাঁচতে অঙ্গীকার
প্রানপনে তাই মার অহংকার। 

Polishing the mirror

I was busy polishing
the mirror, its slightest error
bothered me, so I ordered for
the flawless glass that spoke of
an elite class; still my face
reflected all the signs of stress
that the metal couldn’t efface.

The recycled

I received many regret letters
from countless employers;
felt depressed, piled them
one by one, slowly it became
a habit, a hobby, a bit of fun.

I thought of doing something new
with the failed pages, learned folding
the papers into beautiful boats, flowers,
toys, and stars. On them, I splashed
random, irregular colours.

They looked brilliant and bright,
I decided to post them on a site
that invited paintings for an ensuing
competition; to my utter surprise,
one of them won me a winning prize.

Gradually, I had many followers
with whom I didn't hesitate to share
how I transformed the pain into pleasure 
that the boats, toys, stars, and flowers
were recycled heaps of regret letters.

God and the preachers

Excuse me, please
but god is too powerful,
full of love, merciful,
bountiful to have enemies.

If there’s anything that god
would hate, it’s war and
the bloodshed of his or her
own creation, god is he or she who
gives and forgives all, including
his or her own enemies.

If you have, by mistake, portrayed
god as someone of whom we need
to be afraid, your lines had betrayed
the basic truth; they need to be
rewritten and reread.

Describe him or her as one
who can only love, bless,
and bestow infinite bliss,
even to his or her enemies.

God is someone from whom
we learn and have fun.
She or he is friends at ease
with those who believe in her
or in him, as also with those
who sing a different hymn.

In order to get rid of this warring
disease, follow god alone, not his
or her preachers, please.

বিশ্বের বিস্ময়

বিশ্ব এক বিস্ময়কর ভূমি
অদৃশ্য ঘড়ির ছন্দে চলে
ওঠা পড়া, ভাঙা গড়ার খেলা
দিবারাত্রি ঢিমেতালে দোলে
শত সহস্র প্রাণীর নাড়ির টান।

বনজঙ্গল পুকুর দীঘি নদী
সমুদ্র, পাহাড়, কত পর্বতমালা
অগন্তি সম্পদ নিরবধি
প্রসাদের মত করে অনুদান
গেয়ে চলে জীবনের গান।

ফুলবনে ফুলফল ফোটে
ভোরে ওঠা পাখিদের ডাকে
না জানি কি নেশা মিশে থাকে
পায় মাখা শিশিরের সাথে
আনন্দে ভরে যায় প্রাণ।

রাতে কত থোকা থোকা তারা
জ্বলজ্বল করে আকাশেতে
মায়াভরা জ্যোৎস্নায় মেতে
প্রেমে হয় মন মাতোয়ারা
আলোর আলিঙ্গনে স্নান।

যেখানেতে এতো ভালোবাসা
আমি সেথা কোনো এক কোণে
মাতৃস্নেহে বেড়ে উঠি ভেবে
পৃথিবীর বুকে মোর বাসা?
কি করেছি পেতে এই স্থান!

আমার যত রাগ দ্বেষ আছে
নিষ্ঠূর যুদ্ধ হানাহানি
সভ্যতার দম্ভ হয়রানি
বিশ্বের করুণা ঝর্ণাতে
করে যাই অনর্গল পান।

যখনি চেতনায় পড়ে ভাটা
সব ফেলে দিই আমি হাটা
চোখ কান খুলে দেখি শুনি
বিশ্বের পবিত্র সুরধ্বনি,
সব গ্লানি হয়ে যায় ম্লান।

Global checklist

The greatest achievement of
human population
will only come into fruition
when the world and its cousins
learns to operate and function
without the use of weapons.

The most significant contribution
to the world will come alive
when poverty, in all its apparition
will disappear, wither, and die,
and corruption ceases to survive.

Until the time, all the countries,
despite their sciences and technologies,
will fall prey to the win-lose model
of destruction, all accolades, and laurels
will crowd the space, cloud the mind
as precious and priceless fripperies,
they’d be for a fact, not worth any kind.

Being in the game

When soldiers become
leaders, wars are stationed,
bargained, rationed, because
they had been there, done that
many times before, they know
its futility, all the more.

When writers become
leaders, nation recovers
from disasters, since they had
criticized those hankering
after, pelf, position, and power.

When lawyers become
leaders, rate of crime, corruption,
violation significantly drops
as they had dealt with the malice
a number of times in their profession.

When doctors become
leaders, the nation heals under
their guidance for they know
how to cure illnesses.

I know, by this time, impatient
readers, like me, are nodding
their heads in disapproval;
reality paints a picture that's
way too imperfect, people who
go to the top, those who matter
the most, for the eradication
of the disturbing conditions,
cannot opt to break away from
the vicious norm, and usher their
nations into a brighter morn.

We need fresh thinking, a collective
strength to help, not blame; to deliver
the world from this self-destructive
system, we need to create an innovative
game where players learn and benefit
without any guilt, or shame of defeat;
where all of them, regardless of their
professions win as they play,
all along the way.

সুপ্রভাত

ওই যে মানুষগুলো,
রাস্তার চারিধারে আছে,
তাদের ফুটপাথের
চিরন্তনের উচ্ছেদের
আচ্ছাদনের ভিতর...
তারা মর্নিং ওয়াক রত
পথযাত্রীদের থেকে সুপ্রভাত
শুনলে অবাক হয়ে তাকিয়ে
দেখে, কোথাও থেকে ভাতের গন্ধ
আসছে কিনা। 

আমি বসে এক কোনে ভাবি
মনে মনে, এই দারিদ্র কি
কখন মিটবে না?
এতো লোক হাটাহাটি করছে,
হাতাহাতি, মারামারি করে মরছে,
পৃথিবীতে এতো ধন, এতো
প্রাচুর্য, এতো আড়ম্বর
এর মধ্যে যারা বনবাসের মত
দারিদ্রে বসবাস করছে নিরন্তর,
কবে দিনমনির মত উঠবে
তাদের মাথার ওপর ছাদ,
মুখে পেটভরা হাঁসি,
পাতে গরম ভাত,
কবে আসবে জাগরণের
সেই মনোরম সুপ্রভাত।

Sex and sexuality

Sex, in essence,
is heterosexual, sexuality
is in between a man
and a woman;
both manifest within
persons where
only pure and passionate
love matters,
gender doesn't;
it's always
a man and a woman,
looking for each other
 while making love on the bed,
or elsewhere as partners 
for a one-night stand,
or for good, holding hands
for a lifelong affair. 

The elusive

Imagination is trapped
in words, 

when I say, Jesus

I cannot imagine him

playing the flute,

a hut has to stand
somewhere in a land,

it cannot sail afloat 

in a boat,

Krishna cannot find himself

in a mosque,

images that want to live

die in predicted captivity.

Through arranged letters,
are created, unconscious

waves of wars, 

they're meant to anchor ashore

like a vehicle of

communication, but on their way

they invariably hit hidden

icebergs, their fixed destinations,

like a mirage in a desert, 

are forever distanced 

in tragic destiny.

They bond, to depict reality
they're bound in sounds, 

lie in silent pages, to separate, 

yet expressions rejoice, 

in volumes of 

heard, unheard voice

in the illusion of liberty.

The absolute truth

From the moment of birth,
death starts; destruction of homes
in its literal and metaphorical sense
commences with its inception.

I die because of my breath
yet, when I die I cannot breathe
life is destroyed because it eats,
it also perishes when it stops to eat.

All definitions collapse with
Vishwadarshan, Krishna becomes
Radha, he leaves, but never ever
abandons the Vrindavan.

When Arjuna beholds Krishna,
not the one we are condemned
to imagine, like the one playing
with the Gopis, or as the shepherd
with a peacock's feather on his head,
a flute in his hand,
but the Krishna who absorbs destruction,
creation, and operation, in whom duality
of opposites ceases and continues to confuse,
yet coexist, the Krishna who is beyond time
and space, where the part and the whole are
seen at once, where Krishna, in the majestic
scene becomes the stage, the director,
the audience and the performer.

Where all differences become one,
where no rule can be established,
although its existence can be experienced,
Arjuna dared to define the indefinable
in the clumsy lines that overruled all the
rules of meters.

That whose beauty and vivacity cannot be
contained in measured lines, whose existence
cannot be lied in words or description, which
is intertwined like birth and death, whose
vision may be denied to some, but can never
be defined, that which is within us at ease
all the time, but beyond any dogma or proof,
that is the state of the absolute truth. 

The inner exercise

The writer Vyasa is writing. 

Dhritarashtra, Sanjay, 

Arjuna, Krishna, are talking

in riddles and symbols. 

It is one single voice speaking

With names that are made

To appear different through

Definition.

Of the five, the king

is the culprit that

cannot see. 

Sanjay, Arjuna, Vyasa

Behold Krishna. 

Are they the hidden pandavas, 

Carrying the kurukshetra

Inside? Has the Mahabharata

Ever manifested outside? 

Or is it an inner exercise? 

ডায়েল করুন দশ, নয়, আট

চাইল্ড ট্র্যাফিকিং রুখতে
ডায়েল করুন দশ, নয়, আট
অসহায় শিশুদের বাঁচাতে
এগিয়ে আসুন, বাড়িয়ে দিন
আপনার সাহায্যের হাত।

পুলিশের সুযোগ্য আনুকূল্যে
এরা শক্তিশালী সমস্ত ভারতে,
অক্লান্ত পরিশ্রমের মূল্যে
এনারা পারছেন ফিরিয়ে দিতে
শিশুদের মা-বাবার হাতে।

আমরা শেষ করতে পারি এ বর্বর
ব্যাভিচার, যদি সমস্ত দেশ হন তৎপর,
শিশুদের আশঙ্কা পড়লেই নজর
তাই ডায়েল করুন ১০৯৮, এই নম্বর।

Please dial ten, nine, eight

To prevent child trafficking
dial ten, nine, eight; help
will reach the spot in minutes,
they’re committed to their work,
they will fulfil their promise.

It is backed up by the police,
the offenders will be promptly
brought to book, the children
will receive help with kindness
and grace, they will be returned
home in no time, thus restoring
a smile on their parents’ faces.

The number 1098 is valid
throughout India, our beloved
country, so please dial 1098 when
you see a child in your locality,
in trouble, or if you see them
going through pain, or distress.

Against this social malice,
let us all be united, let us all stand,
let us raise our voice and give
1098, a helping hand.

Pris dans les débris des mots

Silence s'il vous plaît, soyez calme,
essayer de vous vous noyer
dans la tranquillité, et lentement
découvrez la conscience.
Les conversations maladroites mènent
toujours vers les conflits; on se sent 
empoisonné avec un échange
de potions toxiques ;
les mots n’ont que des sons pollués,
mais c’est dommage parce que dans les
sons réside la vraie sagesse ; c’est
le siège de Brahma*, son royaume
unique et inestimable, c’est
un jardin où peuvent disparaître
toutes les jalousie, les discordes,
et les peurs; c'est un paradis
où la paix inévitablement
nous conduit de ténèbres 
à l'illumination, prévaut;
rassurez-vous, votre corps,
votre esprit, et l'âme vont
se libérer de maladie,  à chaque
instant, vous allez vous réjouir
du pur, calme du silence.

Silence s'il vous plaît, soyez calme,
parlez à la Kathamrita de
Thakur*, vous noyez-vous dans
le jus de l'élixir, restez en état d'ébriété
félicité du silence ; vous étiez
enterrer dans un débris de mots,
ruiné, meurtri ; en ce moment-ci,
dites adieu à insignifiant, mortel,
des lettres ; comme un voleur,
dérobez subrepticement
la conscience afin de dire bonjour
au bonheur, pour toujours.

 

Remarque:

Brahma - (Sanskrit: ब्रह्मा, IAST: Brahmā) est le dieu créateur dans l'hindouisme. Il est également connu sous le nom de Svayambhu (auto-né), Vāgīśa (Seigneur de la parole), et le créateur des quatre Vedas, un de chacune de ses bouches.

Kathamrita de Thakur

Ici, Thakur fait référence à Sri Sri Ramakrishna Kathamrita (bengali: শ্রীশ্রীরামকৃষ্ণ-কথামৃত, Śrī-Śrī-Rāmakṛṣṇa-Kathāmṛta, The Nectar of Sri Ramakrishna's Words) est un ouvrage en bengali en cinq volumes de Mahendranath Gupta (1854-1932) qui raconte des conversations et activités du mystique indien Ramakrishna du 19ème siècle, et publié consécutivement dans les années 1902, 1904, 1908, 1910 et 1932. Le Kathamrita est considéré comme un classique bengali et vénéré parmi les adeptes comme une écriture sacrée. Sa traduction la plus connue en anglais est intitulée The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna (1942).

Caught in the debris of words

Quiet please, be quiet,
drown in silence, and slowly
discover consciousness.
Petty conversations, a mere
step towards conflicts,
it has only reaped competitions,
intoxicated in an exchange
of poisonous potions;
it had polluted sounds
where reside true wisdom;
the seat of Brahma’s
unique, priceless kingdom,  
an ambit where disappear
jealousy, discords, fear;
where peace, that inevitably
leads from darkness
to enlightenment, prevails;
rest assured, your body, mind,
and spirit will be freed from
disease, if in every moment,
you bathe in the pure,
quiet of silence.

Quiet please, be quiet
be in tune with Thakur’s
Kathamrita*, settle down
in the juice of the elixir,
stay inebriated in insane
bliss of silence; caught in
the debris of words,
you are ruined, bruised;
therefore, bid adieu to
meaningless, deadly, lethal
letters; like a thief, surreptitiously
steal into consciousness
and experience the phenomenal,
supreme happiness.

 

Note:
Brahma - (Sanskrit: ब्रह्मा, IAST: Brahmā) is the creator god in Hinduism. He is also known as Svayambhu (self-born), Vāgīśa (Lord of Speech), and the creator of the four Vedas, one from each of his mouths.

Here, Thakur refers to Sri Sri Ramakrishna Kathamrita (Bengali: শ্রীশ্রীরামকৃষ্ণ-কথামৃত, Śrī-Śrī-Rāmakṛṣṇa-Kathāmṛta, The Nectar of Sri Ramakrishna's Words) is a Bengali five-volume work by Mahendranath Gupta (1854–1932) which recounts conversations and activities of the 19th century Indian mystic Ramakrishna, and published consecutively in years 1902, 1904, 1908, 1910, and 1932. The Kathamrita is regarded as a Bengali classic and revered among the followers as sacred scripture. Its best-known translation into English is entitled The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna (1942).